Petshop of Horrors: Denial
by Jeckle
Summary: Say what you mean, be what you are. Why is it so difficult to do these things in the modern age? Count D has just the pet for you... (Updated and revised prior to the release of the sequel 5/22)


In the heart of the city, you will find Chinatown, a strange and  
mysterious place were rare and valuable commodities are in abundance.  
Welcome to my petshop... tonight, you will find something that you  
desire...  
  
  
Denial  
A Petshop of Horrors Fanfiction  
  
Pulling the gown out of the closet with reverence, fingers grimy  
with dirt, chocolate, and the filth that only a child's fingers CAN  
find. Aubrey tossed the dress on the bed, the way mother had always  
done, before examining it. Running grubby fingertips across the silk,  
the child could smell her perfume. Aubrey wanted to wear that perfume  
when the elusive gift of adulthood was won finally, one tedious year  
at a time.   
Aubrey liked Mother's perfume. It was sweet, but in a subtle way,  
and it had suited the woman. Aubrey twirled a lock of long blonde  
hair, turning the dress over with a solemn gaze. Aubrey didn't  
breath, as if afraid a careless breath would damage the silk.   
Unzipping the back and tugging the gown on, Aubrey wedged a  
child's body, still pudgy with the fat of youth, into the gown. It  
fit like a bag, as dirty hands flailed to reach the zipper at the  
back, Aubrey examined the dress in the mirror.   
Breathing catching, Aubrey smiled timidly at the reflection, as  
the bedroom door opened. Turning about quickly, allowing the fabric  
to spin about, like a cloak, Aubrey's smile broadened as Father  
stepped into the room, "Daddy! Aren't I pretty? Just like Mommy!"  
Aubrey's father froze, he'd been wearing a haggard, and  
despondent look since the funeral... He wouldn't speak when spoken to  
most of the time, and usually just spent the night waiting for Aubrey  
to go to sleep so he could cry in peace. The shock on Father's face  
was wonderful. The first real reaction since the funeral, it warmed  
Aubrey's heart, and the child lifted dirt caked hands for a hug,  
"Aren't I pretty?"  
It was equally shocking as a hand slapped across Aubrey's cheek,  
"Get out of that dress! What the fuck do you think you're doing?"  
Aubrey was too stunned to breathe, or get off of the floor. Remaining  
still, Aubrey waited, with eyes closed, hoping Father was just  
kidding, "Don't you ever touch your mother's things! That's not  
something for little boys to play with!"  
Aubrey fought back his tears, whispering as he was hit again, and  
the dress was torn from him, "... but aren't I pretty?"  
  
  
  
later...  
  
Pulling up outside the petshop, Aubrey looked at his watch, he  
still had time before his appointment. He'd heard rumors it was the  
best in New York. If you wanted it, they could get it for you. Aubrey  
had always been too timid to visit before, but... with the death of  
his father... well... he could afford to splurge for a pet. It had  
been a tough year. He'd been in a vicious mayoral race, made more  
difficult by his lack of spouse, and his father's declining health.  
But it was all over now... he still couldn't figure out why the  
lingering nausea he had felt for years hadn't gone away.  
Aubrey had felt dissatisfied... he'd hope that winning the  
race... success... it would help him along. But even his father  
passing away didn't soothe him.  
Rolling down his window, he took a deep breath of the scents of  
the city. Chinatown was bustling, the streets full of vendors, and  
shoppers, more vibrant then the normal streets of New York, but it  
was the same smell. Asphalt, decay, and carbon monoxide, it was  
comforting in the same way the noise of traffic was soothing to  
Aubrey...   
It was habit, it was comfortable, and it was home. There is a  
status quo to adhere to. You didn't get to be mayor by stepping out  
of line. Everyone has an unwholesome urge or three, but those had to  
be overcome. It was a matter of will. One urge he didn't deny was his  
love of the city. It was the smell... unpleasant though it was, there  
was something comfortable about it.  
Watching a young woman as she clutched a bundle of groceries, he  
couldn't help but admire her elegance. The old stereotype, the dragon  
lady of the east, mysterious, beautiful, coy... it was a stereotype,  
but one that was enticing to him. And all stereotypes were based on  
some truth... right?  
Watching her as she entered the petshop, he tilted his head to  
the side, it must be fate. He could not help but smile, opening the  
door, and rushing across the street, barely avoiding the traffic.   
Pushing open the door, he rushed into the dimly lit shop,  
overwhelmed by the incense. The furnishings were lovely, ornate  
Chinese, and not only looked old, but seemed rather expensive. Seeing  
the woman standing over a delicate coffee table, with a pot of tea  
and an art deco telephone, Aubrey cleared his throat, "Excuse me?"  
As she turned, Aubrey swallowed hard, utterly enraged on two  
levels. First, his oriental beauty was apparently a man. Second...  
Aubrey wasn't as upset as he knew he should be, which further upset  
him. It was a cheat! Entrapment! The man was beguiling in the tight  
robe, that much Aubrey had to admit. Not that he was interested...  
"I bid you welcome to my petshop... we have all manner of  
animals, from dogs, cats, birds, even reptiles and insects... how may  
I help you today?" The man was tall, and effeminate of feature, this  
was accentuated by the fact he was wearing a form-fitting Chinese  
robe, with flowing sleeves. Peeking out from the bulky sleeves were a  
pair of dainty hands, fingers tapering into pink claw like  
fingernails.   
So pale was his skin, he must never leave his dank petshop. Black  
hair, meticulously groomed into a bowl cut, the bangs hid his right  
eye, though the left was a gentle shade of lavender. His fine thin  
lips were painted a shade to match his fingernails, and that was the  
only make up he wore, "I am Count D." His voice was lightly peppered  
with a Chinese accent, but very well enunciated, and possessed of a  
warm, sensual quality, "You are my 3 O'clock appointment, I presume?  
Aubrey Helton?"  
Tilting his head to the side, Aubrey felt uncomfortable with the  
tall, thin petshop keeper. It was the languid, casual bearing of the  
Count that was unsettling. Aubrey felt constrained in his three-piece  
suit, and nervous, always nervous, "Yes, thank you for seeing me on  
short notice." The background nausea was beginning to rise, tickling  
the back of his throat.  
The Count did not ever blink, his eyes tearing away at Aubrey, as  
if reading him, "I would not dream of sending away a new customer,  
regardless of how little warning. Especially the new Mayor... May I  
offer you some tea?"   
"... I'm in something of a hurry. I've had a death in the  
family."  
Interrupting, Count D nodded sympathetically, "I was most  
saddened to hear of your loss. Your father?" Aubrey nodded, not  
speaking of the matter, instead intent upon picking up some sort of  
pet, and getting out, "And you want something to help console you?"  
Aubrey nodded without speaking again, taking in a deep breath,  
the incense giving the room a smoky appearance, though it's scent was  
light, somewhat like vanilla and lilac. Count D looked from Aubrey to  
the back room, then back, "I have something you might be interested  
in, Mr. Helton..."  
"Follow me please." The Count turned, pushing aside a curtain, he  
descended a long flight of stairs. The decor was the same as the top  
floor, all tasteful Chinese imports. All of it possessed of that  
unique quality you find in decoration magazines, intrinsically you  
knew it was valuable, and tasteful.  
"Watch your step please." The Count murmured in his light accent  
as he unlocked a door at the base of the steps, "Right this way..."  
He extended a pale hand into the darkness, allowing Aubrey to enter  
first. Aubrey entered the dark room, full of incense, there was a  
single dull overhead light, shining on a small cage, with a red  
velvet curtain draped across it.  
Stopping at arms reach from the cage, Aubrey folded his arms over  
his chest, then looked at his watch, fidgeting uncomfortably. He  
tensed as a clawed grip settled on his shoulder, "Do not be shy...  
this is a very rare find... A rare breed of chameleon." The Count  
whispered in his ear, his warm breath tickling, and winning a shiver  
from the man.   
Aubrey pulled away quickly, nodding, "That'll be fine." The Count  
shook his head, a hand resting on the drape, "You've not even seen  
the animal yet. Be certain you are happy with the merchandise. And  
there are sales terms to discuss..." Tugging the curtain free,  
causing the smoke to swirl about, the lizard was revealed with a  
flourish.   
It was quite unspectacular, and hardly the loving animal Aubrey  
had come looking for. But if he said no, he'd have to spend more time  
with this man, who was so damned calm despite what he was wearing. It  
was nauseating, almost revolting, the urges he suffered under in the  
man's presence. If he did not get fresh air soon, he would burst, his  
stomach was rioting in his frame.  
"Before I can sell it, you must agree to the sales terms."  
Holding out a thin envelope between dainty claws, the Count  
continued, "And sign them... there are three requirements. One... you  
must never show the animal to anyone. Two... you must keep it warm,  
at least seventy five degrees in it's cage. Three... you must feed it  
a small cup of white wine each full moon, or its appearance will  
suffer. We can not be responsible for failure to adhere to these  
sales terms. Please treat your pet well, won't you?"  
Signing without a thought, and handing the Count a credit card,  
he snatched the cage, and ascended the steps quickly, trying to get  
away from the man, if only for a moment. Taking the steps three at a  
time, the cage rattling behind him, he tore open the door, and rushed  
into the main showroom.  
Waiting in the Petshop was a blonde man, in a tattered T-shirt. A  
cigarette was clamped between his lips, and his jacket was hung  
loosely over one shoulder. His unruly blonde hair was tied in a  
sickly version of a ponytail, and he frowned on seeing the Mayor.   
Aubrey pushed past him, heading towards the door, the incense  
quickly sickening him, the darkness hurting his eyes, and the warmth  
of the building choking him. Almost kicking the door open, he rushed  
into the street, ignoring the traffic as it honked, brakes squealing.  
He hopped into his car, and slamming the door, breathing rapidly.  
Aubrey let out a ragged breath, setting the ornate cage on the  
passenger seat. His clothing was damp and sticky, his stomach queasy.   
Lighting a cigarette with a trembling hand, he slowly relaxed,  
until he turned to find the Count tapping at his window.  
"Mayor..." A soft-spoken voice whispered, and he forced himself to  
roll down the window. Count D held out the credit card in his pale  
hand, "You forgot this..." The Count's lips pulled into a good  
natured, but predatory smile, "You seemed so very busy, I gave you a  
discount."  
  
+++  
  
"Always a pleasure detective, may I offer you some tea?" D took a  
seat, blowing on his tea, as always, seeming to serve tea, but rarely  
drinking. Perhaps he found comfort in simply holding the cup.   
Q-Chan, his pet settled onto his shoulder. The rabbit peered at  
Leon with beady eyes, small horns adorning its orange head, and black  
bat-like wings at its back. It was cute, but unnatural. It SHOULDN'T  
exist, but that was true of most of the animals the Count owned.   
"Thanks..." Leon leaned back in his chair, arms hanging behind the  
couch, "Wasn't that...?"  
"The new mayor." Count D said in the tone of voice one would  
recite the hour of the day.  
"You sure don't waste any time, do you? Already you're bribing the  
mayor. It hasn't been a week since he was elected. Don't think he'll  
stop me from prosecuting you for your activities."  
"Bribe? He paid me. He is a customer." D raised a thin eyebrow at  
Leon, as if confused by the question. "And you know I always tell you  
about my... activities. All I sell here is love, dreams, hope, and  
happiness... and I always tell you the truth. No matter how many  
times we have this discussion. What may I help you with today?"  
"Just visiting." Leon responded quickly, hoping to ask more about  
the Mayor. Count D did not oblige him, continuing, "As much as you  
question me, I never lie. Why must you, Detective? You do not bring  
me a coffee cake, unless you want something." Taking a kitchen knife  
in a dainty grip, he helped himself to a generous slice, "What is it  
that you are "just visiting" about?"  
"It can wait... what'd you sell the Mayor?"  
"A lizard... I have a contract with him." D removed the envelope  
from his robe, and slid it across to Leon. The detective looked at  
it, then back at the Count, "Am I going to need to hold onto this for  
a murder investigation soon?"  
"Perhaps... it depends on how well the Mayor takes care of his  
pet." The Count responded, bringing his tea to his pink stained lips,  
and blowing across it gently, exciting the steam into strange shapes,  
"The people trusted him with the city... I trust him to follow his  
contract. Don't you?"  
  
+++  
  
Looking around his bedroom, Aubrey tossed his shirt out the door  
and into the bathroom. The bedroom was the same as the rest of the  
house, utterly bland, and without character. No pictures, nothing.  
His furniture was plain, and simple. Some would call it the rustic  
look; he had selected it haphazardly, for use, not for beauty.  
The apartment was expensive, and had a great view, New Garden  
Building on East 23rd. It had a window overlooking the Park, and  
Aubrey routinely kept the blinds closed and the curtains drawn. He  
still felt nauseated, terribly sick to his stomach. Why hadn't it  
gone away? His father wasn't suffering any more, the race was won,  
he'd become successful... he'd even bought his new pet...  
On his bedside table rested the ornate cage, and the lizard, which  
didn't seem to have moved an inch since he'd bought the damned thing.  
It just sat on its perch, staring out as if there was something  
intensely interesting outside it's cage that held it in rapt  
attention.  
Aubrey was feeling drowsy watching the damned thing; he couldn't  
help but admit it was interesting. Snapping off the light, he closed  
his eyes, feeling sleep settle over him quickly, like a warm embrace.  
Even the sickness was fading he was so tired...  
"Aren't I pretty?" Aubrey's eyes opened and he snapped on the  
light as he heard the voice. Leaping out of bed, he looked about the  
room wildly. Nothing... just his bed, dresser, and the lizard.  
Staggering into the bathroom, he turned on the faucet, and slapped a  
handful of cold water on his face. It had sounded like a child's  
voice...  
He felt odd. His flesh seemed to be crawling as he reached out  
blindly for the bathroom light. As the light came on, Aubrey froze,  
looking at himself. He would have fainted, but for his deathgrip on  
the faucet. Running a finger gingerly over a swollen breast, he  
jerked his hand back as if burned.  
Fingers straying beneath the counter, trembling as he reached into  
his y-fronts, exploring, searching for one thing... and finding  
something else entirely. From the mirror he could see the chameleon  
in its cage as it said again in a small boy's voice, "Aren't I  
pretty?"  
It was then that Aubrey gave in, and fainted, hitting the plain  
carpet of the floor with a thump and a groan. Darkness closed in  
again on Aubrey, though before he lost consciousness he could hear  
the lizard chiming again, in a child's voice, "Aren't I pretty?"  
  
+++  
  
Skidding to a halt outside the petshop, Leon got out of his car,  
vaulting the door, via the convertible top, and landed at a run.  
Banging his hand on the door, Leon shouted, "Count? Open up! OPEN THE  
DAMN DOOR!"  
After a minute the door opened slowly, and the Count D smiled,  
"Yes, Detective? It's late... our hours of operation are..."  
"What'd you sell the Mayor?" Leon asked as he pushed his way past  
the Count. The Count did not feign as if he had been asleep, he was  
clean pressed, and crisp as always. He was as perfectly groomed as  
always, despite the hour.  
"I told you... I sold him a lizard. May I offer you some tea?"  
"Why is it always tea?!? This is important!" Leon turned, glaring,  
tossing his coat across the room to the couch, "Why can't you answer  
a question?"  
"Because you never ask the question's you really want to ask." D  
smiled, walking past, unruffled, and as soft-spoken as always, "Tea?"  
"I want to know what you sold him!"  
"What Mayor Helton bought from me isn't important... he signed the  
contract, and will follow the terms or not... he's a customer I have  
already helped. What can I help you with?"  
Glaring at the Count, Leon stood up to his full height, moving  
within an inch of the Count's face, "I wouldn't buy a damned thing  
from you, Count!"  
Unaffected, Count D leaned forward, whispering in Leon's ear, "I  
would not sell you anything. I sell second chances... you are too  
timid to take a chance in the first place... Detective." Brushing  
past again, Count D sat, pouring himself a cup of tea, "I sold him a  
chameleon. Does that satisfy you?"  
"Well he's gone missing for three days. Am I going to find a five  
foot lizard, with the mayor's ass hanging out of his mouth?" Leon's  
lungs went in and out like a bellows as he tried to recover his  
breath from D's contact.  
"... No. He is missing because he does not wish to be found. Not  
because of anything I sold him." The Count offered, sipping daintily,  
"If that's all you wanted to know, it's terribly late. You are  
welcome to stay?"  
Ignoring his offer, Leon pushed on, "A chameleon?" He didn't  
inform the Count they'd found the animal already at the apartment. It  
seemed fine, despite having gone a few days without food.  
"A chameleon... he has had it since you last came to visit. It was  
a very rare find. But very particular about it's care." The Count  
murmured, swallowing audibly, examining the cup. Rubbing a thumb  
across it to remove his lipstick, he waited for Leon to go on.  
"Particular?" Leon finally asked on cue, after a few moments  
thought.  
"It must be given white wine by its owner every full moon. He has  
another day." The Count explained, staring at Leon, who jotted down  
the note, and leaned back in his chair, "The offer stands, I would be  
most embarrassed if I did not give you the opportunity."  
Snapping back to alertness, Leon got up and put on his coat. The  
Count smiled, watching Leon, "You and the Mayor have a lot in common  
with the chameleon, Detective. Hiding yourself to fit in... it is the  
most sure way to survive, and the most certain way not to live."  
Leon slammed the door behind him, and the Count's smile broadened  
lightly, "Good night, detective..."  
  
+++  
  
"Aren't I pretty?" Running her fingers over his hand, the man  
looked up at her. Aubrey's heart fluttered, and thrilled seeing the  
flower of attraction bloom in his eyes. She didn't know him, but he  
was attractive, clean shaven, and well dressed.   
"Yes ma'am." He nodded once, lips twisted in a light southern  
accent, and a pleasant smile. It begged the question, what was a good  
ol' boy doing here, in New York? So many questions, and Aubrey had  
been getting a lot of answers of late. She hadn't stopped back at the  
apartment, reveling in her new found power.  
It was a power... Beauty was power... Aubrey didn't ask any  
questions of the man, save his name, Chris... She hadn't asked anyone  
she'd come across anything more then their names. They didn't matter.  
What mattered was her. She knew it, and they all knew it as soon as  
she'd graced them with her smile and the warmth of her touch.   
Plied with liquor, she could have laughed. Chris could have saved  
his money, but she was growing to enjoy the game. As they found their  
staggering way into the parking lot, she rested her head on his  
chest, fingers tickling across his chest, ear pressed against his  
flesh, listening to the rise and fall of his breath.  
There was no illness stirring within her gut either... she was  
pretty.  
  
+++  
  
Butting out his cigarette, Leon stared at the lizard on his desk.  
It stared back at him, as it had been doing for hours. It was utterly  
useless. He'd seen some strange things since he'd been watching the  
Count, but nothing so strange as a lizard this size eating a full  
grown man.  
That was his current working theory in any event. Looking at his  
watch, he sighed. He'd come to trust Count D's deadlines. All hell  
was going to break loose tonight. Count D had said as much.   
Somewhere, the shit was hitting the fan, and all Leon could do was  
sit at his desk and watch a god damned lizard... Life was frustrating  
that way. Especially when D was involved...  
Looking out the window, Leon scowled, shaking the thought of the  
oriental man from his head violently. He needed some more coffee if  
he was going to be watching a reptile for another couple of hours. As  
always, when he got up and was out of the room, things headed south.   
The chameleon's scales began to darken, and brown. Growing scaly  
and dry, as if shedding. Its head hit the floor of its cage, as it  
fell into a light sleep.   
  
+++  
  
Examining herself in the mirror Aubrey ran her fingers over her  
body, it was still so new. At first she had thought it was a dream...  
she let out a sigh as she was embraced from behind by Chris, and she  
leaned her head back to meet his questing lips.  
Growing excited, more at the sight of herself then his attentions,  
she guided his hands across her body, moaning lightly. She began  
panting, eyes fluttering, she let out a gasp, watching her skin. She  
could swear it was not so white as it was a moment ago.   
Yes... it was yellowing. Her breasts began to deflate, and she let  
out a scream, pushing Chris away and out the door.  
"Aubrey!" She slammed the hotel bathroom door closed, and turned  
on the water. She let out a choked sob as her flesh visibly crawled  
and shifted about. Aubrey whimpered as a shriveled prick sprouted  
between his legs, and his breasts vanished. His old body appeared  
before him, but it did not stop... his form continued to twist and  
flow, growing sallow, and yellowing with age.   
Tearing at his face, he threw himself into the bathtub, taking the  
soapdish, and tearing it from the wall. Throwing the metal dish at  
the mirror, he slid to rest in the tub, watching his flesh as it  
swayed wildly, in a frantic and maddening dance.  
Eyes falling to the mirror shards, he snarled at his face,  
reaching for a large and jagged piece of glass. Scowling at himself,  
his face wrinkled with age, and lined by his own claw marks, he  
decided yes... it was a dream. There was only one way to wake up from  
it.  
"Aren't I pretty?" He sneered through a fit of sobbing at the  
reflection, before gripping the shard more firmly. The nausea was  
returning... He couldn't live like this... "Aren't I pretty?"  
  
+++  
  
Leon had been woken up by the phone, and was still irritable as  
the elevator doors opened on the third floor of the hotel. Ignoring  
the man in a canvas blanket, sobbing to the officer who was  
questioning, "I don't know... he was fine one minute, and then, he  
just... started screaming! I didn't know who he was."  
Entering the hotel room, and wrinkling his nose at the smell of  
sex, which was still strong, a looming scent of sweat and heat, he  
entered the bathroom. It was still muggy as if someone had been  
showering.   
The mirror was shattered. One arm outside the bathtub, fingers  
brushing a pool of blood, Aubrey Helton was dead.   
Suicide... Leon looked about, scanning the room. He peered at the  
shattered mirror, eyes trailing down to the faucet. He frowned,  
removing a pair of tweezers from his coat pocket, and removing a  
small item from the sink. Turning it to the side, he frowned. It was  
a reptile's scale.  
  
+++  
  
Carrying the cage into the petshop, along with a box of pastries,  
Leon waved with his free hand, "Got your friend here, Count." The  
mayor had been all over the city. A different partner, a different  
hotel, a different club. Though someone no one had noticed he was the  
mayor... they had all recognized his photograph when questioned. Or  
seen him in the papers after the fact... So the Mayor had come out of  
the closet flamboyantly after being elected. Leon didn't buy it, but  
no one ever listened to his theories, "And some snacks for you."  
"Thank you Detective..." Sniffing, as an animal would, the Count  
licked his lips, "... Pastry from De Marse'? You're too thoughtful."  
Accepting the cage and the box perched atop it in his thin hands, D  
smiled, brushing his nails against Leon's fingers.   
"Tea?"  
"... another time, thanks, Count."  
"You can ask..."  
"How did the straight laced, by the book, Mayor Helton end up in a  
hotel room with another man?"  
D sipped at his tea, hiding his smile with the cup, "That's not  
the question I was expecting. I thought you would wish to know why he  
killed himself. Who he was with seems irrelevant, don't you think?"  
"Is it?"  
"Irrelevant? It depends who you ask. To Aubrey Helton? Yes... very  
irrelevant. I don't think he cared who it was he was with. He was  
never concerned with others... it was always his own appearance that  
concerned him. He was the same Aubrey Helton he always was to  
everyone else... But the Chameleon helped him live ... with himself."   
D took a bite of his crepe, washing it down with a quick sip of  
tea, "I sold him a dream... I let him see himself as he wanted to.  
The chameleon blends into its surroundings. Like him... like you...  
It has been known to starve to death, rather then to risk drawing  
attention to itself by acting... untoward. I sold him a dream, and he  
didn't like what he found when he woke up."  
"What does that mean?"  
"Always a pleasure, detective..." Count D smiled, signaling the  
end of the interview.  
"Why did he have to die?" Leon asked standing up, folding his arms  
over his chest, getting irritated with the Count, despite promising  
himself he wouldn't this time. The Count played with lives to prove a  
point. It was how Leon often saw it, though the Count insisted, he  
offered the public what they wanted, if they could only abide the  
sales terms.  
"... he didn't have to die, detective. The late Mayor couldn't  
live with his desires... even if everyone else could." D smiled  
holding out a cup of tea to Leon, "So... the lesson inherent is that  
society is often more forgiving then humans are of themselves... do  
you wish to ask me anything else? Any clarifications?"   
D held out the cup expectantly, smiling at Leon, as the detective  
stood, ignoring the cup, and pulling on his coat, "... I'll survive  
without, thanks."  
"I'm sure you will, you're a survivor, like Mr. Helton... If you  
ever want to LIVE, my door is always open." D called after him,  
lifting the chameleon, "You can come visit Leon and I any time you  
like. And when you do get around to asking the question you want  
to... the answer is yes, detective."   
The Count stroked the lizard lovingly, as Leon stopped halfway  
to the door, and turned on his heel, "... you named the lizard Leon?"  
D's smile broadened as he shrugged his thin shoulders. Leon turned  
again, letting the light poor into the petshop for a moment, before  
the doors sealed behind him. D kissed the lizard lightly, as it's  
eyes swiveled about, and it rasped in a child's voice, "Aren't I  
pretty?"  
"... yes, Leon. The answer is yes." D smiled gently, locking the  
chameleon in its cage, and dropping the curtain back in place.  
  
  
  
End 


End file.
